She had a tough week. It seemed that everyone at her work had an idea about how she should do her job, what she should say and how she should say it. And if it only happened once or twice, one might say that's to be expected. But it seemed that no matter what she did, or didn't do, someone had an opinion on what she was doing wrong and how she should do it better.
His week was very much the opposite. It seemed that everyone couldn't make a decision without consulting with him. Staffing, budgets, meetings: no matter what the issue, everyone seemed to need to get his blessing or input. And, just like her, while once or twice might have been understandable, the frequency of it all just made him want to scream in frustration.
As they both made their way home that Friday, she could only think about how powerless she felt and how much she hated that. What she wanted more than anything else was to be the one who actually had some control; who could actually be the one to hold power over someone else. God, what a feeling of control that would be!
He couldn't help but think how tired he was to have to solve everyone else's problems. For him, he longed for an opportunity to not have to think or decide; he just wanted to turn everything off and not have to make one decision. Not one. Someone else could do that and he would happily go along. That would be a treat beyond words!
She was the first to arrive after work. Feeling angrier and more fed up by the minute, the first thing she did was pour herself a double tequila. With a practised flick, she poured it and swallowed it down with one large gulp. As she went upstairs to change, she could feel the drink begin to take effect. And take effect it did! As she undressed, she thought about how everyone at work under-estimated her. What right did they have to run her life, she thought? She could damn well run her own life, make her own decisions and have people scurry about to fill her commands. Damn right! As she stood naked in front of the mirror, she looked at her petite frame and knew that with a body like that, she could certainly use it to command some attention from most men she knew.
Yes, she thought, tonight I won't be submissive to anyone. I'll be the one who's the boss, the one who makes all the decisions. And with that decision made, she put on her black thigh-high boots, slipped into her black g-string, grabbed the riding crop and walked downstairs. After slamming back another generous shot of tequila to fortify her, she popped in a porn and waited on the couch.
As he opened the door, it was all he could do to decide that what he needed was a good shot of tequila. As he grabbed the bottle and swigged a stiff shot, he became aware of the fact the sounds he was hearing from the living room were the sounds of some love making. Before he had a chance to view the scene, he noticed her sitting on the couch. Usually, when they had a date, he would be the one to direct the affair and she would be the sub. Today, however, it was very apparent that things were going to be different. It started as soon as she stood up.
"Come here," she hissed as she stood up, with one foot on the footstool, showing off her gorgeous legs. He was momentarily at a loss for words; something which very rarely happened.
"I said, come here you little fuck toy," as she trailed the riding crop over her ample ass and butt crack.
Seeing her standing there, clearly in control, made him want to give up every impulse to disobey. He walked over, as if in a trance.
"Get on your knees and lick my boots," she commanded. As he fell to his knees, she grabbed his hair and snapped his head back so their eyes locked.
"Tonight you are going to be my bitch. I'll give the orders and you'll obey. If not, I'll be the one to make sure you obey. Got it bitch?"
